


oh baby, please do (unfinished rewrite)

by pinxerata



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cheating, Delinquent Whizzer, Denial of Feelings, Detention, Drug Dealer Whizzer, Frottage, M/M, Marvin and Trina Babysit Jason, Multi, Texting, Underage Smoking, adding more tags as this progresses, lmao that was weird to tag, y'all better be happy i didnt tag this glasses kink, yes we stan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-10-19 17:18:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17605583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinxerata/pseuds/pinxerata
Summary: Despite having dated her for years, Marvin still doesn't feel anything for his girlfriend. It was initially inexplicable, but after bumping into a new, interesting someone, he truly figures out the problem.(this rewrite was meant to fix up a few problems i had with my original fic, but after working on it for over a year, i lost my resolve. i hope you guys understand!) (ps read the original)





	1. Chapter One: Well, The Situation's This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mamma mia, here i go again

Of all the insurmountable problems that Marvin had with his own being, his lack of attraction for his girlfriend was the one that fucked with him most.

They had been dating for almost three years now, and Marvin couldn't see her as anything more than a friend. It was embarrassing, really. Having to hug her and kiss her and touch her and feel absolutely _nothing_ ate Marvin up.

It wasn't like she wasn't pretty; Marvin could tell that she was aesthetically pleasing to look at. People loved to tell him so. But to him? She was just another girl, one who had happened to take a liking to him after years of being friends. 

Marvin had an inkling of an idea as to why this was. His eyes didn't usually drift to… _the female form_ at all. In fact, he only attended his girlfriend's cheerleading practice because of the singular fact that it was held next to the men's track team. Sure, it always made him have half a mental breakdown afterwards, but he didn't do it often.

Not only did he feel bad for putting his girlfriend in a situation where she wasn't loved by her long term boyfriend, faking his affection for her was an emotionally taxing chore. Even their friendship had become unstable from the way he pushed her away. 

It didn't help that he sat with her and her cheerleading friends during lunch every other day. He always wished he was sitting with Mendel, or Cordelia, or Charlotte. Just _any_ other friend of his that didn't make him feel like a lying sack of shit.

Yet, instead of sitting with his psychiatry-obsessed best friend or his favorite couple, he still opted to sit with his girlfriend twice a week to keep up appearances. He didn't speak often, he simply sat by her side and let her do the talking. 

So, he was stuck— once again wallowing in his thoughts and blanking through entire conversations, trying his best to appear as if he wasn't being driven to absolute insanity by the situation he was in. 

“Marvin?”

His girlfriend tapped on his shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. Marvin turned to look at her, feigning sweetness. 

“Yeah?”

She eyed him for a second, her hand still resting on his shoulder and maintaining his body in fight or flight mode. “You okay? You've been quiet for almost all of lunch.”

Marvin forced a smile, trying to ignore her friends’ stares. They had never truly warmed up to him, even after years of sitting with them. They believed he 'didn't value his relationship enough’. He couldn't really blame them either— they weren't wrong.

“I'm just stressed about my physics test today, so I'm kind of… out of it. Sorry, babe.” The pet name made his stomach twist in the bad sort of way. His girlfriend smiled. She was only ever pleased with him when he tried to be lovey-dovey, even if it was the bare minimum of endearment.

“You’ll do fine, Marv. I took it last period and it was only like, twenty questions,” she reassured him, rummaging through her backpack and pulling out a lip balm. “It’s practically a quiz.”

Marvin sighed, playing up the _'I’m stressed with school and not my complete and utter apathy towards you'_ act. “I'm just mediocre when it comes to math. I shouldn't have let Mendel drag me into AP classes with him. The only boost I have is the fact that Mrs. Spielberg likes me and cuts me some slack.”

She waved her hand in dismissal, popping her lips with chapstick. “You have an A- in the class, Marv, you've never been bad at math, despite all your bitching.”

“It's my _lowest_ grade. Once this quiz or whatever drops me to a B, I'm practically failing. You know this.” 

His girlfriend's friend rolled her eyes. “Trina, you two have this conversation _every single time_ he has something coming up. Marvin, you never get a grade low enough to drop down to a B.” She sighed. “You two have no substance in your conversations.”

Despite knowing she was absolutely correct, that their conversations looped in the same repetitive topics everyday no matter how dull the topic, Marvin felt the need to defend himself. He wouldn't let anyone but himself question the quality of their relationship. He couldn't. He—

His girlfriend simply laughed it off, as if it was a throw-away joke, leaning her head on Marvin's shoulder. 

And just like that, her seemingly unwavering faith in him dissipated the subtle accusation. The conversation returned to normal, and Marvin went back to sitting in silence. Then, the bell rang, and with an empty kiss goodbye, Marvin trudged to class. He did _not_ feel like sitting through an hour and a half of AP Physics, no matter how easy the test was. He was half-contemplating skipping class, something he almost _never_ did, until _someone_ slapped his back in greeting.

Marvin turned to glare at his best friend, flinching. “Mendel, what the _fuck_?”

Mendel held up his hands defensively, walking alongside him towards class. “You're certainly on _edge_ today, Marv. What's up?”

Marvin scowled at him. “I really don't want to talk about it, Mendel.”

“You know I can't help but psychoanalyze you, dude. Plus, you've been glowering all week. What, are you nervous for your anniversary with Trina that's coming up?” He made a face. “Or have you not gotten her a present?”

“Can you stop being so dead on with your guesses? Yes, it's about her. No, I haven't gotten a present. And I _still_ don't want to talk about it.”

Mendel held the door to their classroom open as Marvin walked in, indignant. “It doesn’t seem like you don't want to talk about it. You _always_ do this.” He put on his best (meaning his utterly mediocre) Marvin impression, sitting down at their table. “ _'Del, I don't want to talk about my problems. Anyway, did I tell you that Trina wants me to double date with her annoying friend?_ ”

“First off, I don't sound like that. Second, I only call you 'Del when you're not being a prying asshole, so I definitely wouldn't say _that_ to you. Third, Mrs. Spielberg will castrate us if we talk during class, and I don't have enough time to tell you my whole situation before the bell rings.” 

Mendel scoffed. “It’s notes and then a short test, Marv. You really think she'll give you a detention for talking a _little_ at the beginning of class?”

“Have you _met_ Mrs. Spielberg? Mendel, are you fucking high?”

“Mildly.”

Marvin rolled his eyes just the bell rang. He lowered his voice, aware of his teacher setting up a presentation on the board. “Mendel, she may like us more than the rest of the class, but this is risky. Plus, she likes you more than me, so if she hears us, I'll be the one punished. ”

“Dude, it'll be fine. I know you want to vent about Trina, so just _spill_ already.”

Marvin dropped his forehead on the table, brooding temporarily before giving in. He sighed, sitting up. “Fucking fine, okay?” He muttered to an annoyingly eager Mendel. “I haven't gotten her an anniversary gift because I don't know if I can stand dating her for that long.”

Mendel made a face and Marvin shushed him before he made a scene.

“ _Don't freak out_. I don't think I love her, and I can't fucking stand it anymore. I get panic attacks every other day just _thinking_ about being with her for more than twenty minutes and I—” Marvin stopped himself, feeling his chest contract way too close to a sob. He was not going to show even a flicker more of emotion than he wanted to. He repressed it, taking a breath before forcing a smile that _hurt_. “I’m gonna McFreakin’ lose it, man”

Mendel, who had previously been serious and attentive, laughed at the slight break in tension, causing their teacher to immediately turn her head to stare at them. The two froze. Marvin could see the daggers in her eyes and knew he was done for.

“Gentlemen, I know it's the beginning of class, but you know the rules. Especially you, Marvin. Detention. Mendel, if you don't want to get a detention as well, I suggest you move to the the back of the room.”

Marvin shot Mendel an _“I fucking knew this would happen you weed-smoking bastard”_ look. Muttering a quick sorry (which could have been directed at either Marvin or their teacher), Mendel grabbed his backpack and moved to the empty table two rows behind them. 

Now all Marvin could do was suffer through the class and wait to accept the consequences that came in the unfortunate form of a detention sheet at the end of class. His only hope was that he would be spared from Saturday detention, not that Mrs. Spielberg habited giving those out. 

The test was not as easy as his girlfriend had told him, but Marvin felt he could manage. Thirty questions, all mostly review. He faltered in confidence near the end, his brain tired of doing revolting _math_ for an extended period of time. When the bell rang to end class, Marvin wished it could instantly kill him instead.

As everyone left the classroom (Mendel had muttered on his way out that he'd wait for him outside), Marvin went up to the teacher's desk, mentally bracing himself for social interaction. He really did hate talking to teachers. They reminded him too much of his parents. 

His teacher sighed, looking at him. “Marvin, you're a good kid. However, I know you know the rules, so I can't just allow you to go free. It wouldn't be fair to the others who talk out of line.”

Marvin swallowed thickly and nodded. He could hear the disappointment in her voice and it made him _sick_.

“I'll give you a detention after school today with Mrs. Anderson in 809 today.” She smiled, handing him his detention ship. “Just don't interrupt my class again, alright?” 

Marvin gave a small, polite nod. His hands were in his sweater pockets, his fingernails digging into his sides as she dismissed him. Fuck- his jaw _hurt_ from subconsciously grinding his teeth down out of nervous habit. He needed to fucking _chill_. He had the overwhelming urge to ask Mendel for weed and smoke his leftover anxiety away, but he had to babysit Jason after his detention. As he grabbed his backpack off his chair and slung it over his shoulder, he tried to figure out the maximum amount of weed he could smoke in order to be mostly sober in around an hour and half. His mind was racing, trying to get it together, but the math had practically burned him out. He walked out the classroom, immediately facing Mendel. He instantly glared at him, and Mendel backed up five steps.

“I’m _sorry_! I really didn’t think she’d react that badly. Or that you’d make me laugh in the middle of _that_ conversation. How long have you been holding on to that emotional baggage? You can’t just keep that shit in, and by the sound of it, you especially shouldn’t do so for _years_.”

That was too quick of a swerve into precisely the conversation Marvin was avoiding. “Hey, you’re not getting anywhere with your psych career judging me like that, asshole,” he scoffed out, crossing his arms. “You’re making me _want_ to sit alone in detention for the next hour.”

Mendel sighed, seemingly putting on his “sympathetic” expression on. “I’m not judging, but you’re my friend, dude. It’s not healthy to repress stuff.”

Marvin rolled his eyes internally. _Tip of the iceberg_. “I’m _fine_ , ‘Del. I’m just a little stressed. But seriously, I have like eight minutes to get to Mrs. Anderson’s detention.”

“ _Anderson_? Dude, Spielberg took fucking _mercy_ on you. Even more so after how much she loved you last year.” 

“Yeah, that’s the only bit of luck I’ve had in awhile.” Marvin frowned. “Hey, can you wait for me? I need a ride to Jason’s after school, or I’ll be even more late to babysitting.”

“What about Trina? Can’t she cover for you?” Mendel asked, saying her name gingerly as if it were going to harm Marvin somehow.

“She has cheerleading practice to prepare for Friday’s football game.”

“Alright. Just text me when you’re out, man. I’m gonna stop by home to get a snack or something.”

Marvin nodded and said his goodbye quickly. Yes, he still had a few minutes before detention started, but he didn’t want to test his luck twice in one day. He navigated the halls, looking for his junior-year teacher’s classroom. However, a hand suddenly grabbed him by the shoulder and stopped him in an instant.

“Hey, Marv!”

Marvin exhaled sharply, startled. “ _Jesus_ , Cordelia, you scared the _shit_ out of me.”

Cordelia gave him a shit-eating grin, slapping his back. “Where are you going in such a rush? You usually have your guard up, even when you’re walking down the hall.” Cordelia was still ever so observant.

“I got detention last period, and it’s about to start,” Marvin replied, a bit sheepish.

“ _What_? Goody-two-shoes got a detention?” Cordelia asked in an over-exaggerated tone, still smiling playfully. “What for? Doing too much homework?”

“I made a joke and made Mendel laugh hard enough to land me in detention.” He paused. “You have purple paint in your hair, by the way.”

Cordelia groaned, grabbing her hair and running her fingers through it. “I blame Charlotte. She passed by my art class and had the _audacity_ to distract me while we were painting. Luckily, she has softball practice today, and I am not passing up the opportunity for sweet, sweet vengeance. I’ll show her not to mess with a power lesbian.”

“Alright, go and be your spunky gay self elsewhere, this is my stop,” Marvin said half-jokingly, stopping in front of room 809 with a sigh.

Cordelia stuck her tongue out at him. “Have fun in detention, dumbass.” She left with a quick wave, running towards the softball field. 

Upon opening the classroom door, he remembered just how cold his old teacher’s room was, the air conditioning hitting him right away. Surprisingly, detention was empty, save for Mrs. Anderson, who was looking at him in what seemed to be disbelief. He felt a small pang of guilt for potentially disappointing her, especially since he had played teacher’s pet fairly well the previous year in her class. He handed her his detention slip, idling next to her desk as she put on the glasses that were around her neck.

“I never thought I’d see you in my detention, Marvin.” She laughed softly to herself as she read the slip. “Though with Spielberg as your teacher, maybe I shouldn’t be surprised. What I am surprised about is that you ‘ _disrupted the class_.’” She made air quotes at the phrase. “You were never one to talk during science.”

Marvin smiled awkwardly. “Physics feels like more math than science, and I don’t really like math,” he explained with a shrug. 

She nodded and looked at the clock on the wall, suddenly looking bothered. “Detention just started and we’re still missing a student.” She sighed. “Well, you can just go to your desk and work on homework, if you’d like.” 

“Alright,” Marvin agreed quietly, sitting at the front desks and taking out his calculus homework. Not that he could manage to do it with the jittery state of his brain at the moment. He doodled spirals mindlessly on the corner of a loose leaf paper, wondering how he was going to withstand an hour of pure silence. He was considering filling his page with stupid drawings when the door opened suddenly.

“Sorry for being late!” 

A guy ran into the class, skidding to a stop in front of Mrs. Anderson and handing her his detention slip. Marvin glanced up and observed him. He was wearing a black leather jacket that was pressed close to his torso, outlining his figure. He also had black converse with its shoelaces tied around the back into neat bows. A worn messenger bag was slung around his shoulder, a few button pins attached to its flap. Mrs. Anderson looked at him in distaste.

“Whizzer, first I catch you behind the school breaking the rules. _Then_ you have the nerve to be late when all I gave you was a detention? I _know_ you’re a good kid, so come on.”

“I had to go across campus to put my stuff in my locker and lost track of time. I’m sorry,” the kid, apparently named Whizzer, replied. Marvin couldn't hear any remorse in his voice.

Mrs. Anderson sighed. “Alright. Just don’t let me see you cause trouble again, okay? What I saw was more worthy of a suspension, and you’re _lucky_ I wouldn’t want to see that happen to you. Go sit down.” 

Whizzer nodded quickly. “Thanks, Mrs. Anderson.” He turned to look at Marvin, and upon seeing his face, Marvin had half a mind to say he was—

He looked back down at his paper, adding another spiral to his page of doodles. Whizzer kept his eyes on him as he walked towards the desk behind him, and Marvin could feel it. He wanted to turn around, to look at him for another second, but at this point it would only come across as weird. Plus, this was detention. There was no reason for him to interact with this kid, and he wasn’t technically allowed to. 

Detention was taking _eons_ to end. Only twenty minutes had passed, and Marvin was already bored out of his mind. His brain was counting down the rest of the time left in convoluted ways. Forty minutes remaining meant two groups of twenty minutes, which meant four groups of ten minutes, which meant _eight_ groups of five minutes. He had drawn out all eight fives on his paper, crossing them out with every three hundred ticks of the clock. The ticking was unbearable at this point. 

Hence, words could not explain the rush of pure relief he felt when the door to the classroom opened again, breaking the silence. A teacher Marvin didn’t recognize walked in, speaking to Mrs. Anderson in a hushed voice. Mrs. Anderson peeked over the teacher’s shoulder to examine Marvin and Whizzer before looking back at her and nodding. She stood up.

“Marvin, can you hold down the fort and make sure Whizzer here doesn't cause any trouble? I have to go help out with something for a few minutes.” Marvin nodded quickly, thinking he could maybe check his phone for a minute.

“What, can't trust me, Mrs. Anderson?” Whizzer asked from behind Marvin, his voice making it obvious that he was grinning. Mrs. Anderson simply gave him a look before exiting the classroom with the other teacher. 

Whizzer laughed, and once the door had fully closed, he hopped onto the table adjacent to Marvin’s, sitting on top of it cross legged. He peeked over Marvin’s desk and looked at his paper, earning an unimpressed look from Marvin. He grinned. 

“Sorry not sorry for looking. I was curious about your drawing since you haven’t looked up from that paper since I walked in. Aside from all those times you looked at the clock, I mean.” Whizzer spoke quickly; He was oddly hyperactive for someone who just spent a quarter of an hour in dull silence. Marvin got a full look at his face as he turned to reply, hoping his own face wasn’t reddening the way he felt it was. 

“Shouldn’t you be in your seat? Marvin asked him, keeping his voice bored and level as he looked back at his desk. _Fuck_ , why were his thoughts so out of control today?

Whizzer continued to smile in a Cheshire-cat esque way. “We just got time to do whatever we want in _detention_. I’m not just going to sit in place and shut up like a soldier. And again, I wanted to see what you were doing, _Marvin_.” 

Marvin turned at the sound of his name, not having realized that Whizzer had picked it up just as he had picked up Whizzer’s. _If_ that was his actual name, of course. 

“Well, there you have it. I was drawing swirls. _Happy_?” 

“Not at all. I want to talk. I like to talk, just like any other sociable person in the world. Don’t you want to?” Whizzer asked, still leaning forward.

“Why would _I_ want to talk? Talking landed me in here in the first place.”

“Well, you _heard_ Mrs. Anderson go on a spiel about how I could’ve gotten expelled for what I did to get in here, and I’d be willing to bet you’re at least a _little_ curious about what that was. Right?”

Marvin rolled his eyes. “She said you could’ve gotten _suspended_ ,” he replied, looking at Whizzer as if to dare him. “That’s not _that_ intriguing.”

“So you admit you were listening?” He laughed again. “It sounds like you were pretty interested to me. Plus, Mrs. Anderson was making an understatement when she said that. I really could have gotten expelled.”

“It sounds like you’re going to tell me regardless of how I feel about it.”

‘I’m sure that’s what you’re hoping for. For me to just tell you what happened before you admit that you _desperately_ want to know. But if you really are dying to know, I’ll be merciful.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Marvin said indifferently, a smile ghosting his face despite his attitude.

“You're _so_ enthusiastic.” Whizzer deadpanned, stretching his arms. “Mrs. Anderson caught me smoking behind school today,” he eventually told him. He smiled upon seeing Marvin turn, surprised. “She moved into my apartment complexes like, two years ago maybe? And since I helped her move in she likes me, so she only gave me detention.”

“Jesus, I get in trouble for speaking once and you get spared from getting expelled cause the teacher _likes_ you?” Marvin scoffed. “You’re lucky.”

“It's no coincidence that Mrs. Anderson was the one to catch me breaking the rules, Marvin. She’s really nice regardless of who it is. You’re not even allowed to do homework in detention, but she clearly let you. I know how all the teachers would react to me and I placed myself around their classrooms accordingly. If I'm going to be caught, then I might as well control the outcome. Everyone is easy to read, even you. And I've only just met you now.”

“So what, you’re just hyper-observant? And what could you possibly read about me in three minutes?”

“Not just three minutes, Marvin. I’ve been in this room with you for what, half an hour already?” Whizzer ran a hand through his hair delicately. “That’s definitely enough time. You're _obviously_ a goody two shoes, and you got in trouble for _talking_ , so I'm assuming it was about something important. Probably something from your personal life that's been on your mind.”

“How did…?” Marvin laughed nervously. “That's… _intuitive_ , to say the least.” His face was heating up again. “Anything else?”

Whizzer seemed to examine him for a second. “I won't say. What's the fun in that? All I can say is that you have a pretty big secret of some sort. I might tell you more if you tell me what you were talking about in class.”

Marvin frowned. “Does it really matter?”

“I can’t make any more guesses without some real insight on what you’re like,” Whizzer insisted. “Plus, I already have a few thoughts I need to confirm.”

Hesitating, Marvin turned back to look at the random carvings on his desk. “It’s about my girlfriend, I guess.” He bit the inside of his cheek hard, unsure why he was giving in to Whizzer’s question. The topic was a bit too personal to explain to a stranger, and yet, here he was, doing just that. “We've been dating since sophomore year, and I just _can't_ see myself loving her.” He turned to Whizzer, who seemed to be lost in thought.

“I think I'll hold back on telling you what I think about you,” Whizzer replied after a beat. 

Marvin made a face, annoyed. “Why? I told you what I was talking about.”

“Simple. You already know what I read. You just don't want to hear it.”

They stared at each other for a moment, and Marvin felt an instant wave of nausea upon realizing what he meant. He bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to grimace and turned away again.

“You’re right. I don't,” he responded coldly.

“Told you.”

Marvin rolled his eyes. “How’d you even learn to be an amateur Sherlock Holmes?” he muttered, his temper rising from being such an open book. He had expected it from Mendel, but _this_ guy?

“The same place where you learned to be so _sensitive_ ,” Whizzer remarked back before catching a glimpse of Marvin's glare. “I sell weed, Marvin. Learning my way around places and people makes the experience easy. Plus, I've got friends that are _fabulous_ assets.” He grinned. “Tell me, do you _smoke_ , Marvin?”

Marvin took a second too long to answer, so Whizzer continued.

“Well, you probably have friends that have their own dealers, right? You’re secretive enough for that. If you ever want one of your own, text me.” He pulled out his wallet and took out a cardstock card with a handwritten number on it, extending his hand for Marvin to take it. “Or, maybe, if you're ready to accept that thing you don't want to hear, you can _always_ call me.”

Marvin looked at the card, hesitating before taking it. “Whatever. My friend lets me freeload, so I don't know if I'll need this.”

“What about the other thing?”

Marvin felt his face warm up. “I-”

Mrs. Anderson re-entered the room, looking at both Marvin and Whizzer to address them. She seemed bothered for a brief second that Whizzer had moved seats, but didn’t say anything about it. 

“I'll have to dismiss detention early today, since they need me for something. Though you two clearly didn't really get much of a punishment.” She sighed, smiling half-heartedly. “You’re free to go, kids.” 

Whizzer slung his messenger bag over his shoulder, smiling innocently at the teacher. “Thanks, Mrs. Anderson. I'll try to stay out of trouble.” He winked at her, and Marvin understood how much of a lie that was. Whizzer looked at him, making a phone with his hand and mouthing ' _call me_ ’ before leaving.

Marvin stuffed his things in his backpack quickly, ready to leave the seemingly hot and stuffy classroom he felt trapped in. He mumbled a goodbye to his teacher, texting Mendel to come pick him up. 

What the fuck was _that_ whole interaction? 

His mind was still racing. His face was now _burning_. He was almost fifty minutes late to babysitting. Mendel was going to take another fifteen to get there. This day _sucked_. When Mendel got to the front of the school, Marvin hoped his relief in seeing him would conceal his internal crisis.

Mendel rolled down his window, grinning. “Hop in, _delinquent_.”

_On second thought, Marvin should have walked._

“You’re an asshole, ‘Del. You know that, right?” Marvin told him bitterly, opening the passenger seat door and sitting down. “Plus, it’s your fault I got stuck in there in the first place.” He slammed the car door shut.

Mendel flinched, beginning to drive. “Hey, easy on the car, dude. It’s definitely not my fault you keep repressing all your emotions without telling anyone. And by ' _anyone_ ’ I mean me, because you literally don’t talk to anyone else aside from me, Charlotte, and Cordelia.” Marvin noticed the absence of his girlfriend’s name, but didn’t bother to mention it. He crossed his arms, looking out the window.

“You could have waited for me to tell you after class.” 

“No way. Then you would have made the excuse that you had to go to Jason’s quickly.” Mendel frowned. “Speaking of time, it definitely hasn’t been an hour. How’d you get out of detention?”

“Mrs. Anderson had something to do, so she dismissed detention early,” Marvin replied, sighing. “Though detention definitely fulfilled its job of feeling like torture. There was only one other person in there. He talked to me for like, ten minutes straight, and got more out of me than you ever could.”

“You were able to _talk_ in detention? I’d like to know where you get your luck, Marvin. It’s way too good. Though I also want to know more about this conversation. What’d you tell him?”

“I didn’t tell him shit. He guessed things about me before even beginning to speak to me. It was straight up _creepy_. I mean, you call me an open book all the time, but this was way too much.”

“You’re making me want to meet him.”

“You really don’t.” Marvin paused. “He even guessed that one of my friends smoked weed, so congrats, you were mentioned.”

Mendel grinned. “Great. How’d weed even come into the conversation?”

“He deals, apparently. He gave me his number, and said that if I ever needed any, I should text him.” 

“Want me to run him through my dealer? My dealer knows who’s good. Though, on second thought, you’re still going to freeload off of me anyway.”

Marvin smiled for the first time since detention ended. “Your dealer isn’t the patron saint of weed dealers, ‘Del. He probably won’t know him. But yes, I’m still going to freeload off of you, especially after getting me landed in detention.”

“Don’t act like your parents don’t give you stupid amounts of money when they go on business trips. Which is always. You’re just an asshole, Marv.”

Marvin shrugged, grinning. “What can I say, it’s what I do best.” 

“ _Anyway_ , are Jason’s parents gonna be cool about you being so late?”

“Jason and I have a deal. His parents know that I can be a few minutes late, so if they leave before I get there, they ask Jason to text them when I arrive. If I’m more than fifteen minutes late, he texts his parents that I’m there, and I have to do his homework.”

“So what you’re saying is that you’re teaching an impressionable thirteen year old how to lie? This whole gratification system is kind of fucked, if you ask me.”

“Real professional phrasing there. I can’t wait for you to analyze my psyche when you get your psychiatrist credentials.”

“I love that you’re implying you’ll still need me by then. At least I’ll finally get paid.”

“Will you?”

Mendel stopped the car, rolling his eyes. “Get out of my car, Marvin. You’re late. Though I would accept a tip as your driver.”

“Bye, ‘Del,” Marvin said dismissively, getting out of the car with his stuff.

He shook his head, laughing darkly. “Bye, freeloader.” He drove off, leaving Marvin alone.

He walked up the steps leading up to the porch of Jason’s house, knocking on the door with earnest. Jason opened the door a after a few seconds, smiling with his typical toothy grin. Marvin smiled back, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, I’m doing your homework. Don’t get so excited about it.” He walked in, setting his backpack next to the door.

“You chose the perfect day to be late,” Jason raved, hopping on his living room couch. The television was playing some cartoon Marvin didn't care for. “I have a ton of English homework I’ve been skipping, and it’s due really soon.” He flipped upside down on the cushions, letting his head touch the floor. “Sadly, I don’t have an essay for you to do, but you can answer like sixty comprehension questions for me. It’s all on the table.”

“You really don’t have mercy, do you, Jason?” Marvin asked rhetorically, looking over all the homework and sitting down. 

“It’s what you deserve for being an _hour_ late. What were you even doing?” Jason lifted himself up, propping his elbows on the back of the couch and looking at Marvin. “If you were with Trina, spare me the gory details.” He made a gagging face.

Marvin scoffed, taking out a pencil and starting the homework. “I got detention for talking, dork. It wasn’t anything interesting.” He turned to look at Jason, who was upside down again. He had a terrifying amount of energy. “Why’d you even put this homework off? It’s easy, and I know you’re smart enough to finish this in less than an hour.”

“You know I hate English, Marv. I don’t want to waste time analyzing stories written fifty years ago by guys nobody cares about. I’d rather watch TV and do the homework last minute. Or, best case scenario, have _you_ do it.”

“Jason, the television is _on_ , and you have your back turned from it.”

“I’m listening to it! I can multitask. In fact, I think it’s _better_ to do a lot of stuff while watching TV.”

“So what you mean is that you can’t sit still long enough, so you just keep the television while practically doing handstands. I swear, the only times I’ve ever seen you fully focused is during chess.”

“Yeah, that’s why I always beat you at it,” Jason replied proudly. 

“No, you beat me because you spend hours playing it by yourself. I don’t have time to practice chess as much as you do.”

“Make as many excuses as you’d like, we both know you just suck at chess.”

“Are you going to let me do your homework, or what?” Marvin deflected, annotating a paragraph mindlessly. He wished his homework was as easy as Jason’s eighth grade English material. He was breezing through this. He heard Jason sigh. 

“Yeah, but I'm _bored_. I've been watching reruns since I got back from school and my mom and dad were both busy when I got home. At least you're more fun than rewatching the same episode of Teen Titans Go for the sixth time.”

Marvin rolled his eyes. “If you want to talk, you should actually do some of your homework. Deal?”

Jason groaned dramatically, sliding off the side of the couch into a handstand before standing up. “ _Fine_. Only because I can’t sit through another episode of this stupid show.” He sat in front of Marvin, grabbing a few of the papers and immediately began to begrudgingly circle answers. 

“See? Not that hard.”

“I know it’s not hard. It’s just _boring_.” 

“ _You're_ boring.”

“No, I’m _bored_ , and you said we could talk if I worked. So talk.”

Marvin chuckled. This was giving him a mild sense of deja vu. “What do you even want me to talk about?”

“I don’t know! Trina? Detention? I’m sure you have at least _one_ interesting story to tell me.”

“Well, I _guess_ I met a really crazy guy in detention today, but I don't see the point in talking about that. It's not like I'll ever see him again.”

“Then _why mention him_ , asshole? Now I'm just curious.”

“ _Language_ ,” Marvin half-chided, knowing it didn't really matter to him whether Jason swore or not. He simply did it out of habit at this point. “I mentioned him to emphasize that I don't have much to tell you”

“Just— tell me about this dude,” Jason insisted, exasperated. “Why was he weird?”

“Well, have you ever met anyone and had them immediately tell you that they sell weed?” Marvin deadpanned, putting Jason's just-finished homework into his binder.

Jason grinned. “Not immediately, but kind of.”

“I'm afraid for today's youth.”

“So, did he offer you any?”

“He gave me his number, and told me to text him if I ever needed any.” His face grew hot as he remembered Whizzer's other offer. “Which I won't,” he said quickly. “And even if I did, I would just ask Mendel, you know?”

“Didn't you just say that you'd ‘never see him again’? You literally _got his number_.”

“Yeah, and I don't have any reason to text him, Jason.”

“ _Why_? You said he was crazy, and I'm assuming you meant it in an intriguing way, so why don't you just stay in contact? He could be useful.”

“Yeah but-” Marvin couldn't think of an excuse. He knew he wanted to text Whizzer. He wanted to call him. He _needed_ an excuse to say no. He was taking too long to continue his sentence. There was no excuse coming to mind. His mind was racing. He opened his mouth. 

“Yeah, I guess you're right.” 

“Of course I'm right! Guys that can get around like that are the best people to be friends with.”

Marvin raised an eyebrow. “And you know from experience?”

“Just _text_ him!”

“You're thirteen, Jason! Where are you meeting these types of people?”

“School is just like that these days,” Jason replied with a shrug. “Everybody knows someone. But _anyway_ , text him!”

“Finish your homework first. After that we can watch a movie and see how it goes with this guy.”

Jason sighed, looking back down at his homework. “Fine. But you know I'm going to look up all the continuity errors in the movie and make you look up when they happen, right?”

“I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Jason.”

Once Marvin had successfully gotten out of doing all of Jason's homework by sneaking another morally questionable rewards system onto him, they sat (or in Jason's case, stood) on the couch to watch an old movie they were able to scavenge. Jason already had a list of errors with timestamps pulled up on his phone, ready to yell at Marvin when the moment presented itself. Marvin had kept his phone in his right hand for about fifteen minutes now, the card with Whizzer's number in his left. 

“Did you text him yet?” Jason asked him, most likely tired of being in one place for so long. 

Marvin had been given enough time to come up with some half-baked excuses. “I'm still not sure if I should do this. What if he's just messing with me? What if it’s not a real number?”

“If it isn’t a real number, _who cares_? Just text something vague that only he’d understand. If he’s messing with you, then just stop texting him. He’s still technically a stranger, right?”

“Yeah.” Marvin frowned. _A stranger who already knew too much about him_. He unlocked his phone and typed in the number straight into his messaging app. _This was such a bad idea. He really, really shouldn’t do this_. His fingers shook as he typed a text, trying to feign casualty. _This was such a bad idea._

(18:48) _hey. it’s the kid from detention_

(18:49) _**so you took the texting route, huh**_

(18:49) _**i was hoping for a call, but i guess this was expected**_

(18:53) _I don't know why you'd think I'd call, but okay. nobody calls nowadays_

(18:54) _**i guess i gave you too good of an excuse**_

(18:54) _**so, do you want my services or what?**_

(18:55) _I told you i freeload, so no_

(18:58) _**i would ask 'then why did you text me’ but you know i know**_

(18:58) _know what?_

(18:59) _**you're difficult**_

(18:59) _**you're taking the long route but hey, i don't mind**_

(19:03) _I'm just bored._

(19:04) _**of humoring your girlfriend?**_

(19:04) _babysitting._

(19:05) _**didn't peg you as a guy who's nice to kids**_

(19:06) _he's thirteen, so it doesn't really count as 'baby' sitting_

(19:07) _**wow, a three year difference for a babysitter? they might as well leave the kid alone**_

(19:08) _my birthday's in december so it's about to be a four year difference, actually_

(19:08) _**shit, you're older than me?**_

(19:09) _are you a junior?_

(19:09) _**yeah, what the fuck, are you a senior?**_

(19:13) _so you can tell what type of person I am, yet you can't tell i'm a senior?_

(19:14) _**i thought you had anderson another period, since she seemed to trust you (+ you're shorter than me)**_

(19:14) _i had her last year_

(19:17) _**no comment on your height, im surprised**_

(19:20) _i used to be shorter and im average height now, so i don't care_

Marvin hated himself for caring.

(19:23) _**how tall is your gf**_

(19:23) _same height as me, 5’9_

(19:24) _**interesting**_

(19:24) _**anyway, got to go, there's weed to deal**_

(19:25) _**call me ;)**_

(19:26) _bye_

(19:26) _**you're cold**_

(19:26) _**call me anyway- im sure you'll warm up to the offer.**_

(19:27) _**bye xo**_

Jason was staring at Marvin when he looked up, eating a bag of chips that Marvin hadn't noticed he had gotten. 

“You literally haven't looked up from your phone for almost an hour. It was scary. You had this weird look on your face the entire time,” Jason told him, popping another chip into his mouth. “I even left for a bit and you didn't say anything.”

“It wasn't a very long conversation.” Marvin had thought through every single reply before sending his messages, treading lightly with every word. This had resulted in whatever that chat was.

Jason rolled his eyes. “It seemed like an interesting one, at least. Was it worth it? Texting him, I mean?”

“Uh, I guess. He's an acquaintance now, I guess.’

“You never know when you'll need someone like him.” 

Marvin knew Jason was talking about Whizzer's dealing, but the phrasing gave Marvin a pit in his stomach. He had opened a door he wasn't going to be able to close. He knew exactly what texting Whizzer would mean to him and he did it anyway.

Jason's parents came home soon after, paying Marvin and bidding him farewell. Despite his house being close by, Marvin resented walking home. The October temperatures made it a pain in the ass. Once he got home, he instantly got into bed and texted Charlotte, knowing talking to her would probably make him feel better.

(20:37) _hey lottie_

(20:37) _how'd it go with cordelia? i saw her heading to your softball practice today_

(20:39) she kept flirting with me from the bleachers and messing with my pitch, but!! great!! she's at my place right now

(20:40) _so it went *really* well, i presume_

(20:43) asdfghjkl yeah,,, 

(20:43) anyway, dee told me that by some miracle you got detention today???

(20:44) _yeah, but we got out early, so it was okay. i also met this guy there that was new i guess_

(20:44) “new”?? marvin,,,,

(20:45) sounds interesting ;))))

(20:45) always iffy about trina and now this *boy*?

(20:47) _please. stop._

(20:47) _he pretty much said the same thing_

(20:48) best gaydar ever

(20:49) _im not gay, lottie_

(20:49) _he implied that he was, though_

(20:52) you're MISSING YOUR CHANCE, MARV

(20:53) _c h a r l o t t e_

(20:54) _please go back to talking about delia, the actual gay_

(20:54) yeah yeah of course

(20:55) she says hi

(20:55) … and she wants to know more about this guy. askdjjsk im sorry, marv, it's inescapable

(20:56) _jesus fucking christ_

(20:56) we're just curious!! are you gonna see him again??

(20:59) _he gave me his number_

(21:00) uiwhdbsbs WH AT

(21:00) you got his NUMBER?

(21:01) and he’s gay?

(21:01) and yet you deny? cordelia and i call queer

(21:02) _it's because he sells drugs, you crazy lesbians_

(21:04) a little bit less of a meet cute, but we can work with this

(21:03) _what_

(21:07) you met up in detention and you two had so much chemistry that you ended up texting under the guise of weed dealing. meet cute. cute way of meeting an s/o. catch up 

(21:08) _it's not like that lottie_

(21:09) _anyway_

(21:09) _what is cordelia doing there so late?_

(21:11) her mom let her sleep over!

(21:12) god really is a woman

(21:13) _lol_

(21:13) _i'm going to bed_

(21:16) alright!! goodnight!

(21:16) text us updates on your new boyfriend or let the bedbugs bite! 

(21:18) _PLEASE STOP_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why i'm rewriting: https://pinxerata.tumblr.com/post/182438899767/why-im-rewriting-oh-baby-please-do-honestly  
> original ch 1 word count: 4635  
> rewrite ch 1 word count: 7390
> 
> i wanted to give jason two moms but his parents are supposed to be mildly neglectful like marvin's so i didn’t want to DISRESPECt. also, GOD in trousers SLAPS. you guys can thank that fever dream of a musical for inspiring to rewrite this mess.
> 
> idk why i changed the way whizzer texts ngl, i just felt like giving him a chiller personality instead of a sporadic one. plus, marvin is fully aware that whizzer offered to fuck him, so they skipped the nuances of unconsciously flirting. marvin is on his toes, making what’s to come a lot more deliberate and it will definitely place the blame on him. ANYWAY-
> 
> please leave kudos and comments, since it REALLY MOTIVATES ME A LOT BRO I REMEMBER ALMOST EVERY COMMENTER (plus, i reply to all comments)
> 
> see ya next chapter! (each chapter will take a while, so please bear with me. chapter one took around two months. i expect the output to be faster as the chapters come and go)


	2. Chapter Two: It's Queer, Mr. Marvin! Oh, Sorry...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a carpool, a fight, and a pretty boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i kept some stuff from chapter two's intro cause fuck it! that was my favorite part of the original fic!! i mean hey, rewrites fix what i hate, so no need to get rid of the only lines i don't regret-

There was something terribly annoying about setting a sweet melody as an alarm clock. Setting it to the default song seemed like a good idea at first, but eventually the soft notes became utterly unbearable. It almost seemed cocky in a sense. Like- _Hey asshole, I’m going to go off in spiraling tones and use my peaceful piano to beat you to death_. Or at least, that’s what it felt like every morning when Marvin shut the fucker off.

Regarding sleep, Marvin wasn't the biggest fan of it. He was the polar opposite of Mendel, who praised naps as if they were a gift of God. What the two _did_ have in common was their inability to get sleep when they wanted it. While Mendel was usually too occupied with schoolwork to get rest, Marvin avoided sleep entirely. He went to bed at two or three in the morning, but laid in bed restlessly for another two-ish hours. Eventually, he would just get his phone out and watch senseless videos until he passed out. However, he was _also_ the type of person who needed to get to at school early to decompress before class. Hence, his alarm woke him every morning at six. 

Due to his lack of rest, Marvin consumed caffeine as if his life depended on it. Because it did. If he was unable to drink coffee in the morning, he'd either get an ear splitting headache and pass out in class, or skip school entirely for five more hours of sleep. His caffeine addiction was too ingrained in his daily routine for him to shake the habit.

Marvin’s morning routine consisted only of waking up, drinking coffee, eating eggs, brushing his teeth, putting in his contacts, and throwing on some random clothes. There wasn’t any rhyme or reason to his early rising, just an established time table he stuck to. He usually had enough time to drink yet another coffee just before Mendel arrived at his house for their carpool.

Calling it a carpool was a bit of an overstatement. Marvin never saw the need to get his own car, and his girlfriend wasn’t allowed to have one, so Mendel had simply been given the job of “Free Uber” when he had gotten his. Which was rather unfortunate, considering that meant he also had to get up early.

Marvin waited for Mendel on his porch steps, drinking coffee out of an expensive thermos like an asshole as he watched him pull up. Mendel was a sad sight to see, clearly exhausted as Marvin got into the passenger seat. They made eye contact, and Marvin instantly knew that Mendel had gotten even less sleep than he had the previous night.

“Dude, you look like hell,” Marvin stated in a matter-of-fact tone, sipping his coffee.

Mendel groaned as he began to drive again, leaning his head back in his seat slightly. “I did homework until three in the morning last night. We had to write a whole essay in _one fucking night_ , man. Psych is gonna fucking nerf me.”

“You have too many AP classes, ‘Del. You should drop down to regular Psych next semester if you’re not sleeping.”

“I _can't_ ,” Mendel protested, his voice dispirited. “My parents are hella more strict than yours, dude. They’d _actually_ murder me if they saw I wasn’t taking my AP classes seriously. What I need right now is a freakin’ nap.”

Marvin rolled his eyes. “Go sleep in the library before class, or something. Drink some of my coffee if you have to.” Marvin rarely offered up his precious coffee, but he was feeling oddly generous in that particular moment.

“Coffee sucks, dude. Plus, you drink your coffee black, like an actual fucking sociopath.”

“Black coffee is superior. I’m not dulling down my caffeine intake with the vileness of milk and cream. I’m not Cordelia. And I’m _definitely_ not you, cause you like _tea_ , of all things.”

Mendel sighed dramatically. “Marvin, you’re too passionate about the little things. We always fight about which one is better, and we both lose. We—” A song neither Marvin nor Mendel enjoyed came on the radio, distracting him for a beat. He switched the station to a classical one. “We should just change the subject. How was babysitting?”

“Decent. Jason made me do a packet of English homework he procrastinated on, but the rest of the night was pretty standard.”

“I still don't get why you babysit at all,” Mendel commented, exhaustion slurring his words together. “You probably need extra time for school right now and you _definitely_ don’t need the money, so why?”

Marvin shrugged. “I've been babysitting him since sophomore year, so he's kind of like a little brother to me. Plus, my parents want me to have a job, and this takes up way less of my time than a real job would. Especially cause I split the work.”

Mendel seemed to fidget in place, steadying his hands on his steering wheel. “Marv, you really should talk to Trina about how you feel. And speaking of parents, you two are being set up for _life_. You know how your mom and dad are when they're home and not abroad.”

“I don't want to talk about them _or_ her, Mendel,” Marvin snapped, looking out the window. They were almost at his girlfriend’s house. Even if he did want to get into it, which he _didn't_ , he didn’t have any time to.

“You _don't_ have to talk about it. Just don’t let this eat you alive when you have an out.”

“It’s not exactly an _easy_ out.”

Mendel stopped in front of _her_ house. Marvin didn’t know if he’d rather turn away from the window and face Mendel, or keep staring out to eventually face his girlfriend when she got Mendel’s text that they had arrived. 

“I didn’t say it would be,” Mendel said finally. Jesus, was it _quiet_ in the car. This sucked. Everything sucked. Marvin chose to stare at his shoes and think about death. 

The car door behind Marvin opened up. Oh, great.

His girlfriend hopped into the backseat of the car, her perfume already making Marvin’s stomach lurch. It wasn't that it was too strong, just painfully familiar. She had leaned forward to give Marvin a kiss on the cheek.

“Hey, babe,” she greeted with a smile that Marvin could hear in her voice, but did not look up to see. He tried to warm his tone of voice for her.

“Good morning, honey,” he replied quietly, drinking more coffee as an excuse to avoid speaking. He never called her honey. He was sure that she was thinking that. Mendel began to drive.

Mendel cleared his throat. “I like your earrings, Trina. They’re very, um, jangly.” Marvin had felt them against his face when she had kissed his cheek. He still hadn't looked up, but he assumed they were one of the many hoop earrings she owned.

“Thanks, 'Del. You look tired, as usual. You _both_ don't get enough sleep.” Mendel yawned as if on cue.

“We can't all get accepted into colleges so quickly that classes don't matter anymore. You have _two_ free periods. Both Marv and I have a full, AP-ridden schedule that plagues our lives.”

Marvin chuckled. “It plagues your life more than mine, dude. I'm doing just fine. Plus, you literally have insomnia at this point.”

“It's AP Psych, then. That class is _hell_. Some of the people in there are crazier than the cases we study. If the lack of sleep doesn't get to me first, I'm sure they'll be the reason I have some sort of mental break.”

“Maybe you shouldn't be the one driving,” Marvin joked, finishing his coffee and stuffing his thermos in his backpack.

“Yeah, maybe I shouldn't, Marvin. Maybe you should get your own car and drive yourself to school so I can get some sleep for once in my life.”

“I suddenly can't hear.”

His girlfriend's laugh bubbled from behind them, and for a moment, Marvin could pretend everything was fine. It was… tolerable. And sometimes that was enough. It _could_ be enough. 

This was exhausting.

“Hey, babe, how's Jason?” she asked him, leaning forward. “I miss the little demon. The other cheerleaders still get on my nerves before big events.”

Marvin forced himself to look up, only turning to acknowledge her question. “It feels like he's getting older every time I talk to him. He practically told me that weed dealers were useful friends.”

Mendel grinned. “Ah, so he's getting wiser.”

“Why were you even _talking_ about weed dealers?” his girlfriend asked with a tinge of disappointment in her voice. She was always overly careful with what they talked about in front of Jason, reprimanding Marvin whenever he spoke about anything that wasn't 'child-friendly’. Marvin, on the other hand, felt Jason preferred being spoken to like an adult.

“I was talking about them in a generally negative manner. I met one in detention yesterday, and I was telling him about my experience.”

“You got detention?” she asked incredulously, leaning forward so fast that her seatbelt locked. “Were you _late_ to babysitting, Marv?”

“Not by long, babe,” Marvin lied, not wanting to upset her. “And yes, Mrs. Spielberg gave me detention for talking in class. You know how she is.”

“Jason’s parents are going to kill you one day. What if they fired you? Your parents would reprimand you.”

Marvin rolled his eyes. “I’d like to see my parents come back from wherever they are right now and do that. And Jason’s parents don’t even have time for his _baseball games_ , you think they’d risk losing one of their _two_ babysitters? No way. Especially since you’re so busy with cheerleading lately.”

His girlfriend sighed. “You never know, babe. You shouldn’t get too cocky about it.” She paused for a second. “But speaking of being busy, I’m going to be practicing for the homecoming game during lunch on Friday, Marv. Can you sit with me today again to make up for lost time?” she asked softly, putting her hand on Marvin’s shoulder and squeezing it.

No, Marvin did _not_ want to sit with his girlfriend again. It was the exact opposite of what he wanted. 

“Yeah, of course, babe,” Marvin found himself saying, defaulting to a faux happy tone. 

“We don’t have to sit with all my friends,” she continued, sounding more enthusiastic all of a sudden. “We can walk around the school or something.”

“Yeah, that sounds fine. I'll meet you where we usually sit.” Marvin was digging his own grave. What was he going to do next, _propose_? A false smile still sat on his face like a self-proclaimed dictator on a throne, just waiting abdicate itself once another one of Marvin's overwhelming emotions took control again.

Marvin usually hated the sight of school, but it was now a sign of freedom. An escape. He never had to spend mornings with his girlfriend. He could just stay in the car and talk to Mendel. She would head to the band hall to meet her friends. It wasn't hard for him to suppress the mild guilt he felt for feeling joy in those moments. In fact, when his girlfriend kissed him and said her goodbyes to him and Mendel, Marvin let out a sigh in relief.

“You could break up with her today, you know,” Mendel said quietly, turning his car heater up and leaning back in his seat. 

So much for that escape.

“I don’t want to think about her right now.”

“You’re spending lunch with her, alone.”

“I spend _many_ lunches with her alone. I can’t just break up with her out of the blue. She’ll ask why, and it’s not like I can just tell her that I never loved her.”

“So what, you're just going to put it off forever? You’re just going to be more miserable the longer you put it off. And the outcome will only be worse.”

“I _know_ , Mendel. I'll fucking think about it later, okay? Please don't make me talk about her. Isn't making patients talk about shit something a psychiatrist isn't supposed to do?”

“I was merely suggesting a solution to your problems,” Mendel replied, ending his sentence in a yawn. “God, I'm tired.”

“Take a nap or something. School starts in like forty five.”

“I don't know if I trust you with my unconscious body, Marv. How do I know you won't just leave me here without waking me up for class?”

Marvin scoffed. “The heat in your car is better than sitting in a cold hall, 'Del. Believe me, I'll stay just for that.”

After a moment of hesitation, Mendel simply sighed and reclined his car seat further down. “Fine. Don't kill me in my sleep.”

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

“I doubt that.”

~

To say that Marvin was nervous for lunch would be the greatest understatement of the year. He had had to step out of calculus to have a short nervous breakdown in the bathroom, burying his face in his palms as he muffled quiet dry heaves and sobs for five minutes before returning to class, cool and composed as if nothing had ever happened. The only indications of his small nervous breakdown were his shortness of breath and a numb ache in his chest. Which, after years of constant panic attacks, had become his normal state of being. 

Despite that, Marvin was considering several ways of getting out of his lunch date. The most extreme plan he had brainstormed was to find a way to injure himself badly enough that he'd be sent to the nurse. He had daydreamed about breaking his arm and simply locking himself at home, avoiding any more feelings. Sadly, this was just an idealistic fantasy, one where he could escape his girlfriend for a few more precious moments.

Maybe he should have stolen one of his mother's xanax pills from their medicine cabinet. Sure, he couldn't have known that morning that his girlfriend would cause a change in schedule, but he was _always_ halfway close to throwing a fit anyway. His fourteen year old self still haunted him in that ever so _fucked up_ way. He'd curl and uncurl his fists, he'd shake slightly in his seat, he'd feel the feverish hysteria bubble up inside him and _fear_. Fear it'd be _noticed_ , fear he'd go back to being defined by his mental state. Not that some people didn't _still_ know him as the crazy kid from middle school and freshman year.

He couldn't really remember those times. The memories were summed up in a jumbled amalgam of pent up frustration (containing both intense chagrin and an untapped libido alike), a desperate need for attention, and the pain of breaking his hand a couple times against a wall. It wasn't exactly something he enjoyed to looking back on.

However, he reminisced on those feelings as he headed toward the senior area, towards the benches where his girlfriend and her friends sat. He could still vaguely feel the way he did. Full of emotions, yet empty, _numb_. He swallowed thickly as his he looked at his girlfriend. He hadn't noticed she was wearing an old jacket of his, one she had picked out in sophomore year, but he had grown out of. She used to be taller than him, and he had hated it. At least he hadn't had to keep all those gifts of her. To have her presence everywhere? Even in his room when he was alone? That would have been torture. More than his life was now.

His brain was doing that thing again. He was linking too many things together, melding his memories together until his thoughts were indecipherable. He used to scream and laugh deliriously until it stopped.

How did he cope now? He did what he had trained himself to do. He forced a weak smile. He lifted a hand in greeting. His girlfriend bounced up and headed to him, overly eager to be with him and pretend they hadn't been distant over the past few days. Weeks. Months. She threw her arms around him, and Marvin embraced her with artificial zeal.

“Hey, sweetie,” Marvin heard himself mumble against her shoulder. Her perfume was somehow comforting and invasive all at once; familiar and yet too closely associated with his perpetual misery.

She parted with him to make eye contact, her expression clear with genuine fondness. “Hi, babe. I was thinking we could walk to the back area of the school? Behind the science hall?”

“Sure, let's go.” 

They walked together, making small conversation about Marvin's detention (with no mention of who he met) and his girlfriend's recent cheerleading practice. As per usual, Marvin's hand was clammy, yet she held it anyway, swinging their arms slightly. They made their way to a small field at the back of the school, one that was out of bounds, yet rarely supervised. 

Once they had arrived, they stood in silence momentarily before she cleared her throat, unlinking their hands.

“Hey, can- can we talk? About... something?” she asked with a quiet, serious voice, no longer looking up at Marvin. _This was bad news_.

Marvin made a feeble attempt to smile. “Yeah, of course. What's up?”

“I- I think we've been drifting apart lately, and I really felt like I needed to talk about it with you.”

Marvin swallowed thickly. “Why do you think that?”

“All of my friends can tell that we're not as close as before. They keep telling me that you don't talk to me or anyone at lunch, or try and see me during practice.”

“It's none of their business what our relationship is like. They don't know me like you do.”

She looked up, frustrated. “That's not the point, Marvin. They're right. What was the last time we _really_ talked? Or went on a date? Or slept over? Senior year is when relationships make or break themselves, and you know I don't want to lose you.”

“We don't see each other because we're both busy, babe. You have cheerleading practice all the time, and I have a ton of AP work. We _both_ babysit. Of course we haven't had time to go on dates.” 

“Then we can _make_ time. We can drop babysitting. Jason's parents can get someone else.”

“You know Jason likes us. He won't let us go that easily. His parents depend on us. Plus, I like being there after school. It clears my head.” 

“Are you saying you'd rather relax with a _thirteen year old_ than go out with me?”

Marvin narrowed his eyes, his temper rising. “You know that's not what I meant.”

“That's what it sounded like. Can't you unwind with _me_? Your _girlfriend_?” his girlfriend pointed at herself in emphasis. Marvin almost let himself say yes.

“We already see each other a lot. There's not that much time in a week, and I need time with other people. That's literally why change who I hang out with every day. I don't like staying in the same place. It puts me on edge.”

“Is that what it's going to be like with me? Are you just going to ditch me when you get ‘ _on edge_ ’? We see each other like three days a week and it's always with someone else. I _miss_ you.” Her voice broke. “My friends keep bringing this whole situation up, and I can't help but believe what they tell me. I care about what they think of me. Of _us_. I don't want us to break up because we don't talk anymore.” 

Marvin put his hands on her shoulders, looking at her as kindly as he could manage. “It's not going to be like that. If you have faith in us, then we'll be fine. We both have to know this is going to work.” 

She remained silent, looking down again.

“Yeah. I… I trust you. We'll get through this.”

Marvin's stomach was in knots at this point. Sure, she was _saying_ she believed in their relationship, but so was he. He wasn't the only one who could lie, right?

Why had he even fought to keep them together? He could have just let the fight escalate and break it off, right then and there. What the fuck was wrong with him?

His head hurt.

“Can we spend the rest of lunch apart?” he asked softly, brushing a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “I think I need a break right now.”

She nodded, a frown still resting on her face. She pressed a kiss to his lips. “I'll see you tomorrow. Text me?”

“Yeah,” Marvin muttered, knowing fully well that he'd avoid thinking about her at all. “Love you.”

“I love you too, Marv.” 

She walked away with her arms behind her back, and though she was Marvin's height, she looked more petite. _Especially_ with Marvin's jacket that bagged up in all the wrong places. Once she was out of sight, Marvin turned on his heel and left the field, wondering if he had enough time to find Charlotte and Cordelia and take refuge in their company. It was extremely hard to be unhappy in their presence. 

What Marvin wasn't expecting was to see Whizzer standing in a secluded-ish area, an actual _cigarette_ resting on his lips, his eyes locking onto Marvin instantly. Whizzer tossed his cigarette down and stepped on it, grinning as he walked up to him.

“Kind of romantic of us to run into each other two days in a row, don't you think?” 

“Didn't you _just_ get in trouble for smoking?” Marvin asked cynically, ignoring Whizzer’s comment and eyeing his clothes. He was wearing a denim jacket with an ivory fleece lining, making him look stockier than he had seemed previously. He wore black trousers and a black shirt for a band Marvin didn't recognize. And he was so _obviously_ taller than Marvin. It hadn't been as obvious yesterday when Marvin had been sitting down, but now he couldn't help but hyperfocus on that detail.

Whizzer shrugged. “I can't just quit cold turkey. Plus, who's going to catch me here?” 

“I just did.”

“And there's no way _you'll_ rat me out. The only people who come out here are people who won't care.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Why are _you_ back here anyway? Did you already cheat on me with another dealer?”

Marvin rolled his eyes, stuffing his hands into his sweater pockets. “I was walking around with my girlfriend.” 

“Ugh. It sounds like _you're_ the one who needs a smoke. Did you break up with her or what? You look like you got hit by a truck and lost money in the ensuing court case.” 

“No, I didn't,” Marvin replied with a scowl. _God, this guy could read him like a book_.

“Why the long face then? Did she rub it in your face that she loved you or something?”

For some reason, Marvin took the candid route. “We just fought. We've fought before, but she told me that she noticed we've been distant.” He sighed. “And I _didn't_ break up with her.”

Whizzer shrugged, stepping closer to Marvin and fixing the uneven drawstrings of his sweater, forcing him to lift his chin enough to make close eye contact. Marvin's face tinted pink. “At least you have an excuse now. You can just tell her that she was right and that you're not feeling it anymore.” He smirked. “I mean, this probably isn't the first time you've taken a while to figure a feeling out.”

_He was laying it on thick._

Marvin scoffed, avoiding the urge to glance any lower than his eyes. “What would _you_ know about it? You seem to be _very_ figured out.”

“I'm just saying. I'm always down to _help_.”

“Oh yeah? What do you think _you_ can do to help?”

“Call me and find out.” Whizzer was still standing way too close to him, and Marvin's face was _still_ warm. He had literally met this guy yesterday. What the fuck was happening? He _couldn't_ break the eye contact. He didn't _want_ to.

The bell that marked the end of lunch rang, and Whizzer let go of the drawstrings on Marvin's sweater.

“My offer is always open, Marvin.” Whizzer grinned. “And I'm _sure_ I'll see you again. See ya.” 

With that, he walked away, leaving Marvin alone for a second time that lunch; this time with a bit more of an _intimate_ reaction. Marvin exhaled shakily as he touched his blazing hot face.

This was _not_ helping his crisis.

~

The entirety of Marvin's last class felt like a foggy, distant memory by the time he was out the door. 

He walked towards the school parking lot mindlessly, thankful that Jason’s parents worked from home on Thursdays. On the other hand, he really wasn't looking forward to Mendel's insufferable onslaught of questions about his “date” with his girlfriend. 

Hence, Marvin addressed the situation the second he got into Mendel's car.

“Just so you know, I didn't break up with Trina. And I _don't_ want to talk about what happened, so don't ask.”

“Jesus, Marv, I've literally only said 'hey’ to you.” Mendel sighed, putting his key in the ignition and starting his car. “Plus, if today bothered you then you'll just end up telling me in a few days anyway.”

Marvin didn't reply to that, opting to scowl and look outside instead. 

Mendel sighed again, driving in silence for twenty seconds before continuing.

“You obviously don't have to go into detail about what happened, but how did it make you _feel_? How did it go?”

Marvin laughed cynically, full irritation settling into his being. “I feel absolutely fucking _amazing_ , Mendel. We almost broke up and I told her I wanted to stay together. I _told_ her that! I don't even love her! So, yeah, it went fucking _swimmingly_ , okay?”

Maybe Mendel _was_ right when he said that Marvin would just boil over and spill out what happened. Marvin bit his cheek and continued looking out the window.

“I’m sorry,” Mendel muttered.

“This fucking sucks.”

“Look, man, just go home and take a break. Maybe even skip class tomorrow so you have an excuse for missing Trina's homecoming game.”

“I _can't_ skip. I have a calculus test tomorrow.” 

“Then make yourself a coffee. Do whatever you can to get your mind off of Trina, since it's bothering you so much.”

“I don't know if a coffee will help. I'll just be more aware of my situation.”

“Oh my _god_. Then _smoke_. You met a dealer yesterday, right? Maybe you can call him.”

Marvin tried not to linger on the memory of Whizzer asking him to call, nor the memory of Whizzer's proximity to him. He blushed anyway.

“I’m not so sure about that. That guy is kind of crazy.”

“Even better! Get someone fucking psycho in your house and you'll be too busy to think!”

“Mendel… you're gonna be an _amazing_ psychiatrist if you're already dropping wisdom like that at age seventeen,” Marvin mused sarcastically.

“ _Hey_! They don't exactly teach how to deal with upset Marvins in highschool psych. Just wait a couple years until I prescribe you a shit-ton of anxiety meds and get you used to talking about your problems without bitching about it.”

“I thought psychs weren't supposed to judge their patients.”

“I'm not legally your psych yet, Marv. I can say whatever the fuck I want.” 

They laughed together, alleviating a small fraction of the earlier tension. Marvin rubbed his face in his hands, reconsidering Mendel's suggestion of drinking coffee. It annoyed him when Mendel made such a good bad psychiatrist, but at least his composure would be fine for another few minutes.

“Hey, maybe you'll sleep tonight, 'Del. You don't have psych tomorrow.”

Mendel made the saddest noise Marvin had ever heard. “Unfortunately, I have a stats test tomorrow, meaning a five page study guide I have to review tonight.”

“I think life actually hates you, at this point,” Marvin responded, leaning his face against the window. “It hates me too, don't get me wrong, but it feels like I haven't seen you rest in _weeks_.”

“Psych has been fucking crazy recently. There's this girl who switched into our class and got seated next to me, and I think she's gonna drive me insane. She should be a patient, not a fuckin’ psychiatrist.” He clicked his tongue. “Fuckin’ Caroline. I can't believe she's taking the same major as me next year.”

Marvin chuckled, watching the houses in his neighborhood pass by. “She’s gonna haunt you in college? Even more evidence that life has it out for you.”

“Eh. I don't dwell on what happens in psych, or I'll end up hating the subject as much as I hate the class. I don't want to dread going there.”

“That's an optimistic way of looking at it.” 

Mendel shrugged. “You're just a complete and utter pessimist, Marv. Not even willingly, you just think of the worst possibility first and won't look past that.”

Mendel hadn't even mentioned his girlfriend, but Marvin could still hear the implication of her name in his words. It was probably just his guilt eating at him and applying his situation to everything, but _fuck_ , did bother him. 

“Yeah, I guess,” he mumbled, opting not to talk anymore. They listened to jazz on the radio until Marvin's house came into view. Marvin grabbed his backpack and opened the car door, ready to literally jump out of the situation.

“Hey,” Mendel called from behind him, prompting Marvin to turn around. “Remember what I said. Take a break tonight, okay?”

Marvin nodded. “Yeah. See you tomorrow morning, ‘Del.”

“Bye, Marv.”

~

In the span of about five hours, Marvin had considered partaking in several things.

It started the second he had walked into his home, when he had made eye contact with his father's liquor cabinet. An array of bottles with bronze and clear alcohol of several varieties glistened and called towards Marvin's unsettled emotions, but the mere thought of a hangover was enough to convince Marvin to lay off. Alcohol was more of a weekend knockout, if anything.

His mother's medicine cabinet was another tempting choice he could have gone with. A plethora of sedatives meant for anxiety all lined up in their butterscotch orange containers. Appealing, but Marvin didn't feel like going into his parents’ bathroom to look for them. Their room always made him feel sick.

Coffee had _seemed_ like an easy decision, but Marvin knew that one cup too many resulted in his mind going a million miles per hour, amplifying his already hyperactive mind. He didn't want to dwell on his girlfriend, and caffeine wouldn't help the thoughts that always bounced back to her.

Though Marvin was reluctant to admit it, sleep seemed to be the only option left for him. He showered, took out his contacts, and laid in bed, surprised at the exhaustion he felt. So he slept, waking up at seven, almost clocking into eight.

Now he was wide awake at the beginning of the night, his room almost entirely dark save for a dim lamp, alone with his thoughts and a complete lack of distractions. He thought back to his conversation with Mendel as he walked around his own house without a purpose. He allowed himself to think about all the things Mendel had suggested. He thought of his girlfriend without meaning to, and forced himself to tug his thoughts away from her again. 

But he couldn't. Everything rushed forward like a tidal wave, washing over Marvin and making him feel the weight of his own repressed, miserable feelings. He buried his face in his hands as a horrible feeling tried to rip its way through his chest. He thought back again to what Mendel had said. He needed a break. 

_“Maybe you can call him.”_

He winced and found himself back in his room, his glasses on and his phone in his hand. His face felt damp. His mind was going haywire.

He sat down on his bed, hands trembling as he scrolled through his contacts and chose the most recently added one. He tapped on the call button and put the phone to his ear. 

_This was a mistake._

A few rings passed without answer. 

He could go back on this. Sure, evidence of his slip-up would be on his call log (and another call log), but he could still hang up. He could make up an excuse and leave it at that. He could—

" _Hello?_ "

Marvin's throat went dry. “Hey,” he replied meekly, knowing the implications that came with his voice and the call.

He heard a chuckle on the other end. 

“ _I wasn't expecting you to call so soon. Or so late. It's already eight, Marvin._ ” Whizzer lingered on his name, dragging out the syllables teasingly, and Marvin knew he was smiling. Grinning, having _known_ Marvin would break eventually. And break he did.

“You said your offer was always open,” Marvin dared to say, his hand still trembling as he held his phone. His voice wavered. “So I'm hoping this was a pleasant surprise.”

“ _You piqued my interest, so yes. You are decently cute._ ”

Marvin's breathing faltered. 

“ _While it is close to my bedtime, I wouldn't mind visiting you for just a moment, Marv. What do you say? Would you mind a visit?_ ”

Marvin hesitated, listening to the buzz of the call for a few seconds. 

“Sounds fine by me. I'll text you my address.”

He didn't hesitate for quite long enough. He heard Whizzer laugh again.

“ _I’ll see you in a few._ ”

The call ended. Marvin typed in his address and sent it, his mind blank for two seconds before starting up abruptly.

Marvin stood up as if pulled up on a marionette string, realizing he was only wearing boxers and a plain white shirt. He rushed to change, throwing on a pair of trousers. He grabbed some deodorant and put some on as well, tossing it back into the depths of his bathroom without bothering to look where it landed. He was sure his hair was a mess, but didn't take a glance at himself in the mirror because he _knew_ he wouldn't be able to see past it. 

The ring of the door accelerated Marvin's heart faster than excessive caffeine ever could.

Smoothing over the wrinkles on the shirt he had slept in as best he could, Marvin walked to his front door, opening it just as Whizzer rang the doorbell another time.

He looked just as flawless as he had earlier, and had procured another equally visually pleasing outfit. He wore a light pink hoodie with skinny jeans and brown shoes. He also wore a navy scarf. He eyed Marvin, making him feel self conscious.

“You wear glasses?” he asked softly, putting his hands into his hoodie pocket.

 _Shit_. 

In his rush to look presentable, Marvin had forgotten to take them off. 

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, sorry, I forgot to put contacts on.”

“It's fine. You look good,” Whizzer reassured him with a lopsided grin, stepping into Marvin's house and glancing over it. “Big place. You _did_ look like a kid with a wealthy family.”

Marvin shrugged, closing the door behind him. “It's really not that much.”

“That's a very upper class thing to say. There's literally a giant liquor cabinet near the entrance, right next to the biggest living room I've seen in a while.” Whizzer turned to look at him. “Should I take my shoes off?”

“You can? I don't really care, and my parents aren't even here.” God, he really had to force his voice to be as mellow and calm as possible, when the entirety of his being was feeling the largest surge of adrenaline ever.

Whizzer laughed. “I'd hope they aren't.” He took his shoes off, leaving them beside the door. His socks were navy blue. “I'll just leave 'em here. I never wear shoes inside, so force of habit, I guess.”

They idled without speaking for a couple of seconds.

“So… wanna give me a tour of your room?” 

“Oh, uh, yeah. Follow me.” 

Marvin walked towards his room, trying to shake the fact that he could feel Whizzer's presence behind him. He had really gone and called him. His room was still extremely dim, the only thing giving it bright being his nightstand lamp.

“Spacey room,” Whizzer commented, looking around. “Kind of bare though. I'm surprised a kid with your kind of money doesn't like the walls with posters and shit. I don't even have a ton of money and my walls are full.”

Marvin shrugged. “I never know what to put up.”

“And your bed is fucking gigantic. Is it a king sized one?” 

Marvin nodded, not knowing how to respond to someone addressing the fact that he did in fact have wealthy parents. Again, people either knew him as the crazy kid or didn't really know him at all. 

Whizzer turned back to focus on him. “Sorry, you called me over here for a reason. How rude of me.”

“Oh.” Marvin found himself fumbling over his words. “No, I—”

“There's no need to be shy about it, you know?” Whizzer continued, stepping closer. “I won't judge. I mean, I saw how you looked at me in detention. And today, during lunch. And I won't pretend I didn't see you look at my lips, Marvin.”

Marvin blushed, staring at Whizzer without knowing what to say. He was getting even closer, and god, he felt tall.

“I think I gave you a pretty easy way of having what you wanted, don't you think? All you had to do was call, and thankfully, you did. I really do think you're cute. Your arms are nice too, now that I see them in a short sleeve shirt.”

“I called because—”

“You wanted to? Because your little girlfriend doesn't cut it anymore? That's _okay_ , Marvin. Don't forget that _you_ called _me_. And I clearly don't care about the morality or ethics of this. So if you were to do anything about the reason you called, I wouldn't complain. And frankly, I know you wouldn't either.”

“You _know_?” Marvin asked, his tone slightly off.

“What, are you going to prove me wrong?” Whizzer asked, standing so close to him that Marvin could see every detail of his perfect face. “Or are you going to prove me right and give in?”

Marvin stared at him, and Whizzer stared back, clearly provoking him. He couldn't help but down at his lips, his unwavering, confident smirk that Marvin wanted to wipe off his face. 

He leaned forward and kissed him, their lips clashing together desperately. And it felt _good_. Whizzer's hands found Marvin's hair and entangled themselves in his short curls. Marvin's hands rested on Whizzer's hips, pushing him forward until Whizzer was on the bed, pulling Marvin on top of him. They separated briefly.

And holy _shit_. He was on top of him.

Marvin couldn't move. He couldn't think. He wasn't thinking. His brain was short circuiting and his face was hot. Everything was hot. His body had practically moved on its own. He didn't _have_ to think.

Whizzer was looking up at him, looking as breathless as Marvin felt, his eyes intense. Fuck, were his eyes _intense_. He was practically eating him alive with a simple look. 

Then, in an instant, Whizzer leaned up on his elbows and stole another kiss that riled them up all over again. He put his hand in Marvin's hair again, lacing his long fingers through it and keeping him close. He cupped Marvin's face with his other hand, his thumb grazing his jaw as Marvin kissed back. 

Whizzer began to hitch his hips up to rub against Marvin's and god, the friction was killing him; The way he kept pushing against him was going to drive him crazy. Whizzer’s shoulders were now pressed against the headboard, his legs crossed behind Marvin's back, pulling him as close as possible in their position. He moved his arms over Marvin's shoulders. The hushed, albeit _indecent_ sounds he was making played like symphonies to Marvin's senses, all of them working together to tell Marvin that this is what felt natural. 

Whizzer fumbled with Marvin's trousers, popping the button open with a swift motion of his fingers. Marvin kissed and sucked hickeys on Whizzer's jaw and neck as he did the same to his jeans. He tugged the collar of Whizzer's sweater, trailing marks down to the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Whizzer moaned sweetly against his ear.

“ _Fuck_ , Marvin, let me—” Whizzer's voice trembled for the first time that night, his hips rolling up for more contact. “Let me touch you, or you touch me, or fucking _both_ before I go insane,” he continued, shifting for a second to slip his hoodie and shirt off. Marvin tried not to stare, though his room was already too dim to see much of anything.

“I want both of us to get off,” Marvin murmured, unable to speak any louder out of fear of breaking the momentum. 

Whizzer nodded in understanding, leaning back into a messy kiss as he pulled down Marvin's trousers and boxers enough to expose his cock. A shiver ran down Marvin's spine, feeling his face _and_ shoulders heat up. Whizzer did the same for himself, sighing against Marvin’s lips as he did so. He put both of their cocks together in his hand, giving them a tentative stroke. They moaned into each other's mouths; Marvin's hands gripped Whizzer's hips and Whizzer's free hand remained against Marvin's neck.

“Let me do it,” Marvin huffed out, noticing that their position made it hard for Whizzer to keep his hips up. Whizzer let go and put his hand on Marvin's back, clutching his shirt when he repeated the motion.

Whizzer tilted his head, sucking a hickey on his neck and chuckling. “Not bad. You sure I'm your first?”

Marvin nipped his ear. “Shut up.”

He laughed again, moving his hips up to meet Marvin's movement. He moaned _loudly_ , still grinning when Marvin moved his hand quicker. “You're lucky I like 'em feisty.”

“Yeah? Well I like them quiet,” Marvin huffed. “My window is open, and my neighbors are nosy as hell.”

Whizzer leaned up and kissed Marvin, slow and hot. “And, let me guess, you don't want them to know you're frotting a willing and kind of impressed pretty boy? I'm sure they'd appreciate knowing you're not bad at it.” Marvin could feel Whizzer's smile against his lips. Whizzer ran his hand through Marvin's hair, gripping it as his breathing hitched. “Though it'd be nice if you moved just a _little_ faster.” He made a small, desperate sound when Marvin complied, clearly trying to hold back his voice. “ _Fuck_. Yeah, like that.”

“I love that you're trying to be less loud but have no qualms about verbalizing everything that comes into your mind,” Marvin muttered, feeling Whizzer make another mark high up on his neck. _That was going to be hard to hide._

“You're so snarky, Marvin. I didn't think you had it in you,” he panted back, leaning his head back against the headboard of Marvin's bed. “Don’t worry though, ‘s hot. We should fuck for real at _my_ house next time. Be loud.”

“Are you seriously inviting me over for more sex _during_ sex?” Marvin asked incredulously, his voice clipped. 

“You complaining?”

“No.”

“Thought so.” Whizzer hummed in pleasure as Marvin gripped a bit harder. His hips bucked up, drawing out a moan from Marvin. “ _God_. I finally got a sound out of you, huh?” He chuckled. “Your voice sounds nice. I could cum.”

Marvin bit his cheek, the bluntness of his compliment making him feel a bit _too_ good. If Whizzer kept fucking talking, he wasn't going to last much longer. Scratch that, he wasn't lasting long regardless. This was too much. “Thanks.” 

Whizzer's nails dug into his back slightly. “Totally being serious. I'm close.” He dug his face in the crook of Marvin's shoulder, moaning into it as Marvin hastened the pace for him. 

“Oh fuck, _Marvin_ —” Whizzer voice broke off as he came onto his stomach, shuddering against him as he slumped down.

Marvin hand shook too as he kept moving, following immediately after him. He held back his voice as much as possible, simply moaning Whizzer's name into his ear.

Whizzer moved to kiss him, panting into his mouth as Marvin lay beside him, their legs entangled as he pressed their bodies together. He smiled when Marvin tugged his hair. “Let me borrow your shirt, yeah?” 

Marvin raised an eyebrow, but took it off anyway, handing it to him. 

“Thanks.” He proceeded to use his shirt to wipe off the cum on his stomach, tossing the shirt on the floor.

“Hey—”

“Your wrinkled white shirt won't be missed by anyone, Marv. Let it go.” Whizzer ruffled Marvin's already messy hair. “Also, you got a brighter lamp in here? It's dark as hell.”

“The light switch is next to the door.”

“You know what? Who needs light? I'll just develop night vision.”

“Do you really not want to get up?”

“I mean, in a second. I gotta deal in like, fifteen minutes, but I kinda _just_ came, y'know? It's not the optimal state to be up and about. _And_ I’d be cold.”

“Your sweater is right next to the bed.”

“It’s a _hoodie_ , not a sweater, Marvin. Not that I expected you to differentiate them.”

“I _will_ kick you out of my bed.”

Whizzer laughed. “I really do have to get up, I guess. My hair's a mess and I want to look presentable. Can I use your restroom? I bet it has a big mirror.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Marvin answered indifferently, his thoughts still a little hazy. 

Whizzer got up and picked his hoodie, shirt, and scarf off the floor, pulling them on and walking into the restroom. After a few minutes, he walked out, his hair almost perfect, save for a few loose tufts. He turned on the lights, making Marvin squint. 

“You got any scarves in your closet?” Whizzer asked, looking at Marvin, who was staring at the ceiling.

“No. Why?”

Whizzer took his scarf off, tossing it on the bed. “Take mine. You have a ton of hickeys. I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not.”

Marvin put a hand on his neck, sitting up. He stood up, buttoned his jeans, and walked towards his bathroom mirror. Four hickeys trailed up his collarbone to his jaw. 

“Fuck.”

“A good fuck,” Whizzer responded, entering the room. “The hardest one to hide is probably the one right here.” He put his thumb below Marvin's jawline, the rest of his fingers resting on the nape of his neck. Marvin ignored the blush of pink on his face he spotted in the mirror. Whizzer didn't. He pulled Marvin closer, kissing him. Marvin kissed back, aware of Whizzer's hands on his neck and hip. Whizzer pushed him back against the counter before stopping, only parting away from him partially.

“I have to go. But I'll see you around, right?”

Marvin wondered why a guy like Whizzer would genuinely want to see him again.

“Yeah. I'll see you around,” he replied, looking at Whizzer's ever so intense eyes. Their lips were still touching. He leaned forward and kissed him again, and Whizzer didn't seem to mind. But he did make it brief, separating from him a second time.

“Sorry. I really do have to go,” Whizzer said apologetically, stepping back. “My main source of money calls.”

“It's fine,” Marvin replied. “I have homework to do.”

Whizzer smiled. “Lame. Bye, Marv.”

“Bye.” 

Marvin watched him as he walked out, hearing the front door shut. He looked back at himself in the mirror and touched the hickeys on his neck. It was surreal. Seeing real, tangible evidence that _that_ had just happened. The fact that he'd have to wear a scarf the next day to hide the fact that he had actually gone and cheated on his girlfriend. That fact that absolutely _nobody_ could know that it was with a guy. It all hit Marvin at once. 

He walked back into his room, picking up his shirt and tossing it in the laundry bin. He put on an identical white shirt immediately after (Whizzer was right, he really didn't have a reason to care for the other one). He was on autopilot again, not knowing how to react to his own actions. However, he knew someone that could. Mendel. He grabbed his phone off his nightstand and found their chat.

(21:36) _hey, can you come over?_

(21: 40) _dude, wth, my parents are asleep. it's late. this can wait, right?_

(21:41) _sneak out or something_

(21:41) _please_

(21: 42) _if they hear me go out the door, they'll actually murder me_

(21:43) _my parents are JUST as jewish as yours man_

(21:43) _more! even! your parents let you do a LOT of stuff!_

(21:44) _go out the window then_

(21:44) _i really do need to talk to someone_

(21:44) _jesus_

(21:45) _this better be important, marv_

(21:45) _it is_

(21:46) _fine, ill walk over. i'll be there in like five_

(21:47) _thanks del. door's open_

(21:47) _as always_

Marvin paced his room, trying to rehearse his words somehow. His thoughts all jumbled together, and he felt like he didn't have enough time to go through Mendel's hypothetical questions and answer them all in his mind. He was right. Mendel didn't take very long to get there, making his presence known the second he walked into Marvin's house.

“This better be worth sneaking out through the window!” he yelled from the hallway, walking into Marvin's room. “It was freaking cold outside, Marv. I walked here for _you_.”

Marvin stared at him. Mendel stared back.

“Are those hickeys?” Mendel asked slowly, as if talking to a child.

Marvin nodded. 

Mendel seemed to visibly deflate in mood. He rubbed his temple and turned around. “Why would you _sleep_ with Trina when you're literally in the worst position to do so? Do you think with your dick or something?”

Marvin laughed sardonically, pitying himself as he readied his response. “I cheated on her.”

“I'm sorry?” Mendel faced him again. “You did what?”

“I cheated on her, Mendel. Like twenty minutes ago.” 

Mendel remained silent, probably thinking of a way to address Marvin's words. He walked over to Marvin's desk and sat on his rolling desk chair.

“Okay. Who did you cheat on her with?”

Marvin paused for a few seconds, trying to admit it to himself before verbalizing it. “The dealer I met in detention. I called him.”

Mendel's jaw dropped comically. “You're gay? I mean, shit, it makes sense, but oh my _god_. Dude, when I suggested that you should call him to get your mind off of Trina, that was not what I meant. At all.”

“I _know_ , Mendel, but I saw him at lunch today and he told me to call him. And I was so upset over that _stupid_ fight I had and how much I didn't want to be with a girl that I just did it. And of course I feel bad, but I also… I don't know. I don't _hate_ what just happened.”

“I can't believe you texted me this soon after.”

“What did you want me to do? Wait until tomorrow and tell you three minutes before you had to make eye contact with the girl I cheated on?”

“I know, but now I have to look _you_ in the eye and know you were fucking some random guy _in this room_ twenty minutes ago. I don't even know what he looks like, or who he is.”

“He's a junior, but I think we're the same age right now,” Marvin told him. “He's taller than me by like three or four inches.”

“That doesn't help me at all. Don't help me visualize the guy you just screwed. I'm surprised he's taller though. Didn't you get all bitter when people teased you about Trina being taller than you?”

“Don't remind me. It still irks me.”

“Does it irk you with the guy?”

Marvin thought about it. “No, I don't think so.”

“I guess I can think of a reason for that.”

“Cool! I don't want to know,” Marvin deadpanned. “I don't feel like thinking anymore. And I especially don't want to sit in that carpool tomorrow.”

“Shit, I have to sit and _drive_ in that mess.” Mendel yawned. “And I still have homework to do. It's so late, Marv. Forgive me if I drive us into a tree tomorrow, I can't help it.”

“Just go home and sleep, Mendel. Cram the remaining homework in the library before class starts or something.”

“I'm afraid to take advice from you, but I'm so tired that I'm left with no choice.” Mendel stood up, stretching his arms and walking out of the room. “You'll be okay for tomorrow, right? You know you can just stay home.”

Marvin nodded, heading into the hall with Mendel to lock the front door behind him. “I’ll be fine. I'll see you in the morning.” 

Mendel stepped out, looking back at Marvin. “You look weird in glasses, by the way. Night.”

“Fuck off.” Marvin slammed the door shut for added dramatics. He heard Mendel laugh from behind the door. _Asshole_. He went back into his room and turned off the light, face planting into his bed before grabbing his phone, knowing the desire to sleep wouldn't come to him right away. A text from Whizzer lit up on his screen.

(22:04) _**congrats on frotting ur first guy**_

(22:07) _isn't it past your bedtime?_

(22:09) _**don't be rude to the guy who got u off :(**_

(22:10) _i'm not going to thank you, if that's what you were hoping for_

(22:11) _**i don't expect anything from you anymore**_

(22:11) _**ur a wild card**_

(22:13) _what do you mean_

(22:17) _**well, today, for example, you actually called me. i thought u were doing to be a helluva lot more complicated**_

(22:18) _how so_

(22:21) _**idk. u had an excuse to want weed, considering the fact you argued with your girlfriend. you'd text me asking for weed. id ask bud or wax? and you'd say wax because it's cheaper and you're only buying product to see me again**_

(22:22) _**and either you'd let something happen then, or you'd trick yourself into really thinking you need the weed and keep coming back until we fucked**_

(22:23) _**plus, most guys who invite me come over just let me lead and blow them, which usually doesn't end with both of us getting off**_

(22:23) _**so thanks for the quid pro quo ;)**_

(22:24) _how did you start with “i don't know” and then proceed to say exactly what you thought_

(22:27) _**idk hdksks**_

(22:27) _**oh and i also thought maybe you'd let me top just throwing that out there :)**_

(22:29) _no thanks_

(22:31) _**worth a try**_

(22:32) _**but u were right, it is past my bedtime**_

(22:32) _**dealing ran late and i need my beauty sleep**_

(22:34) _obviously_

(22:36) _**wait is that a compliment or an insult**_

(22:37) _a compliment?_

(22:39) _**that's gay of you**_

(22:39) _**thanks though, m flattered**_

(22:40) _**goodnight marv**_

(22:41) _night_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> og ch 2 word count: 5116  
> rewrite word count: 9257
> 
> btw when marvin and whizzer talked at school marvin got a boner that Lasted lmao just in case i somehow didnt make that Clear Enough y'all gotta live with that
> 
> i almost didnt give marv glasses in this chapter but i know y'all gays love it. also, i made the porn a tad less awkward cause it pained me physically to write it awkward the first time-
> 
> ALSO!! IM SEEING THE FALSETTOS NATIONAL TOUR IN APRIL AS A LATE BIRTHDAY PRESENT!! BUFF WHIZZER BUFF WHIZZER BUFF WHIZZER BU
> 
> PLEase leave a comment i live off of them!! + Feel free to send me asks or messages on tumblr! 
> 
> whizzer owns airpods

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr (feel free to send asks!):  
> pinxerata.tumblr.com


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